The Hidden Hero

Chapter-6 Philosophers Stone

Harry was walking back from the library after a night of studying, close to curfew, when his scar started to prickle uncomfortably. He couldn't see the scar, given his disguise, but he knew where it was on his forehead and the pain he was feeling was definitely coming from that location. He rubbed at his forehead with the heel of his hand. Perhaps he should detour to the hospital wing and ask for a headache potion?

However, before Harry could decide, he was distracted by whispers in a nearby room. He was surprised to hear voices because it was getting late and he had thought this corridor was deserted. Quietly, he approached the door, which was slightly ajar, and tried to hear what was being said.

It was Professor Quirrell, his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. What was he doing here? And who was he talking to? Harry listened closely.

"Yes, My Lord. Of course, I'll do as you say. But, are you sure that Professor Dumbledore has left the castle?"

Harry was confused. Professor Quirrell wasn't stuttering. In fact, despite the fearful tone in his voice, he seemed more confident than Harry had ever known him to be. He continued talking, although Harry had not heard anyone give him a response. Harry listened more intently.

"You are right. If Dumbledore is gone, no one will stop us. Professor Snape may have suspected us before, but he has no reason to believe we'll go after the Philosopher's Stone now. He'll be in the dungeon and we can retrieve the stone and be done before anyone knows what we are planning."

Harry's head was spinning. It was clear that Professor Quirrell was planning to steal something – the Philosopher's Stone, whatever that was. He had apparently made sure that Professor Dumbledore was out of the way and was going to be attempting the theft right now.

Harry scrambled away from the door just in time. He hid himself in an empty classroom across from the one that Professor Quirrell was in. When he heard Professor Quirrell's footsteps fade into the distance, he left the room and followed behind, muffling his footsteps with a simple spell that he had taught himself months ago.

Oh, how he wished he had just a few minutes to be able to contact one of the teachers! He wasn't sure that he should be following Professor Quirrell. It wasn't his business, after all. But, he couldn't just let him get away with stealing something, could he? Unsure, Harry decided that he would just continue to follow Professor Quirell, to see where he went. Hopefully, he would be able to tell where the man was going and then Harry could leave and tell one of the adults what was going on.

So, stealthily tracking the older man, Harry followed as he was led up to the third floor corridor. Harry wondered where the other person Professor Quirrell had been speaking to had gone. From time to time, when Harry had caught glimpses of his prey, he had only seen the professor, usually with the ends of his robes just clearing the corner of the next turn. Perhaps, the other person was in front of Professor Quirrell, leading the way?

Harry pressed his back against a cold, stone wall and strove to listen around the corner of the doorjamb. He heard Professor Quirrell in the next room whispering, "Alohamora," and the click of a door swinging open. For a brief moment, Harry heard a chilling growl fill the air. However, incredibly, Harry heard music start to play and, almost immediately, the growls ceased.

After a few minutes of no sound, other than the soft music playing, Harry peered cautiously around the corner of the door. A door at the far side of the room stood open, but Harry couldn't see anyone. Hesitantly, he softly approached the room, and peered inside. A huge, three-headed dog was sleeping peacefully, its enormous body covering almost the entirety of the room.